


The Language of Your Heart

by Wickedrider98



Series: The Language of Your Heart [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: IT'S S O F T, It was supposed to be sad, Love Languages, M/M, Mute!Jon, Nightmares, actual sign language, and I like the idea so I borrowed it, but instead it was SOFT, but lots of comforting, kind of a sign language?, so if that was you, so soft, someone in the official suggested Jon would have a buzzcut after the hospital, specifically touch, thank you for your service, what we wall need post 151
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 11:27:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20446382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wickedrider98/pseuds/Wickedrider98
Summary: The Eye takes Jon's Voice after he wakes up, and he and Martin learn to communicate in a way that's not words.





	The Language of Your Heart

In some ways Jon didn't mind losing his voice. 

The Eye had meant it as a punishment of course. Take the Archivist's voice, his only way to Ask for statements, and force him to use his powers. But Jon saw it as a release. With each day he was unable to speak, he found the Hunger for a new statement dwindling. Sometimes he would ask for specific statements to be read to him, but the urge to hunt for new prey had lessened. 

Martin had been tasked with his care since he'd left the hospital. He didn't leave Jon's beside, at least for the first few days. Short of the occasional run to grab whatever The Archivist had scribbled down on one of the multicolored sticky notes Martin had placed on the nightstand. He made sure Jon was resting enough, kept him clean, administered medications, made sure he'd eaten properly, and kept the water cup topped off. As Jon improved he'd see to it that he got at least some exercise in, going for walks around the Archives to break up how much time he spent in bed. They were always short and slow, a stumbling Jon leaning on Martin for support, but it was at the very least a change of scenery. By now, Martin felt a bit better about leaving him alone for short bits of time. Sometimes he'd duck out of the room to eat lunch, or to make tea for the others, and he'd finally taken to sleeping in his cot instead of the chair next to Jon's bed, but he was never far away. He'd placed a little silver bell next to the post-it's for Jon to ring if he needed something while he was away, but it was rarely ever rung. Jon had never been fussed over like this, and the idea of having Martin at his beck and call felt strange. He was grateful for it, but having another human cared this much for his well being was a foreign concept to him. The last person who'd come close to doing something like this had been Georgie after his grandmother had passed, but this felt different. Martin was doting on him every moment, and he wasn't sure what to do. This became apparent to Martin one day when he came into Jon's room to read by his bedside, and noticed his water needed refilling. 

"Jon, you  _ can  _ ring the bell if you need it," Martin shook his head as he grabbed the empty cup. Jon grabbed an orange sticky note and a pen. 

_ I don't want to bother you,  _ he wrote,  _ I know you're busy, you've done so much for me, I don't want to be a burden. _

Martin’s eyes widened when he read the scribbles.

“Jon, you’re not a burden! You’re recovering” he gently took his hand, “it’s okay to need help sometimes, it’s not an inconvenience.”

Jon nodded, though he didn't believe it. Martin gave his hand a gentle squeeze. 

"You don't have to do everything by yourself. I don't mind taking care of you at all. In fact, it's kind of nice to have someone appreciate my help," an emotion Jon couldn't place flashed over his eyes before he smiled, "now, you get some rest. You need your strength if you want to get better."

Martin placed an absentminded kiss onto Jon’s cheek before shuffling off to grab some more water. There was a long silence as Jon’s shocked, trembling hand touched where Martin's lips had pressed before he heard an "OH FUCK." 

The blonde man rushed through the door, his face the color of an overripe tomato. 

"I'msosorryIdon'tknowwhatcameovermeohgod," he took a deep breath and relaxed, "you didn't consent to that, and I forgot where I was. I'm really sorry Jon, I hope you forgive me." 

Jon didn't remember grabbing another note, but he quickly scribbled words onto it before handing it to Martin. 

_ Don't be sorry.  _

Martin cocked an eyebrow when Jon motioned for him to come closer. The Archivist gave his lips a tiny peck, and when they pulled away Martin looked as though he wanted to melt. 

Another note. 

_ I think I'm in love with you.  _

Martin grabbed a post-it as well, this one colored a soft pink. 

_ I'm in love with you, too. _

***

Things went smoother once Jon was off bed rest. Martin still never left his side, but it was no longer because he was caring for him. Martin stayed with Jon while they worked, enjoying the comfortable silence between them. They'd made a language, something like signing, but one that only they understood. A squeeze of the other's hand, fingertips brushing palms, a hand on one's arm. Each gesture, each touch had a meaning, one that only they knew. Jon didn't need words to convey what he needed from Martin, and Martin didn't need them to respond. They would have entire conversations in their silent dialect, the others watching but not understanding. They could pick out the meaning of an occasional gesture, but none of them were fluent. Melanie had mentioned some quiz Georgie had tagged her in on Facebook, about the five love languages. 

"Mine was 'time spent together'," she'd told Basira, "those two would be definition 'physical touch'." 

"Didn't know you put stock in that sort of thing," she'd countered with a light chuckle. 

"I don't," Melanie watched as Jon hugged Martin from behind and rested his head on the larger man's back, signaling he was tired and wanted a break, "but look at me and tell me those two aren't happiest when they're touching each other."

Basira laughed softly. 

"That they are."

***

Their need for physical intimacy continued even when Jon and Martin weren't around their coworkers. One was very rarely without the other, even in the confines of their bedroom. Martin always seemed to be touching Jon somehow, holding his hand or sitting with an arm slung around his shoulders. Jon had written a note asking why he did that, and Martin had just smiled. 

"You haven't had much positive physical contact recently," he cradled Jon's face in his hands, his thumb covering one of the worm scars on his cheekbone, "it means a lot to me that you allow me within your personal space. I saw the way you flinched away at first, and I just want to remind you that not everyone who touches you wants to cause you harm." 

Sometimes, on the off chance they were given some privacy, they'd lay in the darkness on their shared bed. Jon would be on top of Martin with his face buried in his neck. He'd run his fingers through coarse graying brown hair, still growing back from the buzzcut he'd received in the hospital. When Jon would start to fall asleep Martin would trace his fingertips along his back, slow and deliberate, spelling out words onto his skin.

_ I love you.  _

Jon would hide his face further and smile, but Martin would feel silent words whispered against the crook of his neck. 

_ I love you too. _

***

Sometimes lacking a voice was frustrating. When Jon would wake up in the early hours of the morning, dripping with cold sweat and tears and choking on the soil of nightmares he couldn't discuss even if he wanted to, he'd find himself cursing his situation. But Martin was always there. He was a light sleeper, blinking awake at the slightest shift in weight on his partner's side of the bed. He'd touch Jon's arm to get his attention, putting his other hand out when he would whip around to face him, fear in his silver eyes. 

"Hey! Hey," Martin would whisper, his thumb gently rubbing against pulse point of Jon's slender wrist,"it's just me. It's okay." 

He'd pull Jon into his arms, rubbing his back while he sobbed into his chest. 

"I know Jon, I know." Martin pressed a kiss into his hair, "it's alright, you're safe. I promise."

He'd keep up the gentle touches for as long as Jon needed, rubbing his back or stroking his hair while whispering words of love and affirmation into his ears, with the occasional kiss on the forehead. Sometimes he'd hum a soft lullaby, letting Jon feel the rumble of his chest along with the beat of his heart. When Jon was calmed down they'd lay back down together, the smaller man's head resting on Martin's chest, still lost in his heartbeat. Martin would cup his cheek, bringing his face to his while wiping tears away with his thumb. 

"I'm here Jon," he always sounded so sure, "I won't leave you. I won't let anyone hurt you. Go back to sleep, okay?"

Jon tensed in his embrace, the message clear.

_ Please don't make me. _

"Then at least just lay here and try to relax? You don't have to sleep, but at least let your body rest." 

The tightness in Jon's shoulders loosened a bit at the suggestion, fully relaxing as Martin started to work small circles into his back with one hand. Jon took the other in his own, pacing their fingers together and kissing the back of Martin's palm. His way of expressing his love and gratitude.

"Don't worry about it," Martin smiled and hugged him closer, "I'm going to sleep, okay? I'll see you in the morning."

Jon nodded into his chest, and soon the two were dozing peacefully. 

***

“Here you go,” Martin handed Jon a teacup, “one Earl Gray.”

Jon placed a hand on his chin,then moved it away from his face in an awkward attempt at signing ‘thank you’. His attempts to teach himself BSL through YouTube were still stiff, but he was trying. Martin’s hands moved back and forth from his chest, meaning ‘you’re welcome’, before sitting down beside him. 

“You’re getting better,” He wrapped an arm around Jon’s shoulders, “I can still help you y’know.”

Martin had taken a class in Sign Language several years back, but Jon had refused his help, saying he wanted to learn by himself. He’d stayed in his office camped in front of his computer for days, but it had been worth it when to see the look of pride and happiness on his boyfriend’s face the first time his shaky hands slowly spelled out ‘hello Martin’. Jon grabbed a pencil from the table and jotted down a response on the notebook he’d taken to carrying.

_ No, thank you,  _ it said,  _ I want to do this myself.  _

Martin laced their fingers together and pulled him closer.

“Whatever you say.” 

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, Jon cuddled against Martin’s side as he sipped his tea and Martin content to look for something to watch before finally flicking something on.

_ Really? Good Omens again?  _

“Don’t act like you don’t love it,” Martin smiled, “you love it just as much as I do.”

Jon rolled his eyes before settling on his shoulder.

“Jon?” His head popped up, “do you ever… do you worry about what The Eye is going to do when it finds out that taking your voice wasn’t as much of a punishment as it thought?”

The Archivist couldn’t bring himself to look up after writing his response.

_ Let’s just… focus on now.  _

“I just worry…”

_ I know. I do too. But I don’t want to worry myself with what might happen. I just want to be here. In this moment. With you.  _

He nodded.

“If that’s what you want.”

_ It is. _

They lapsed into silence again, broken later by Jon’s soft snoring. Martin pushed a few stray hairs away from his face, and planted a kiss on his forehead. 

“Sleep well Jon,” he whispered, “I’ll be here when you wake up. Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is the beginning of a series under the same name, and I gotta say I'm pretty hyped about it! Can't say how long it'll be yet or give you any sort of timeframe for when the second one will be out, but I'm super excited so stay tuned! If you wanna yell at me to write or abt Magnus feel free to hit me up on Tumblr at vigilo-operior-audio!


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